In the Future
by BoundLight
Summary: Another look at "The End." After Future!Dean tells Cas that he'd be better off dead, the angel and a few of Dean's old friends set out on their own. Past!Dean/Castiel
1. Chapter 1

"That's it, you're on lock down."

Dean grabbed his younger self, tugging him back inside his cabin. He threw the young man against a ladder, and stretched his arms up as high as they would go before snapping on a pair of handcuffs. Dean smiled grimly, pleased with his work. "Try and get out of that."

The younger man glared at him. "Can I at least know _why_?"

"When you need to know something, I'll tell you."

The elder stormed out of his cabin, and walked straight to Castiel's. He shoved the beads aside. Cas was sitting in the middle of the floor; he looked to be meditating.

Dean grabbed him roughly by the front of his shirt, and shoved him against the wall. "What is your _problem_ Cas? Huh?" He shook the fallen angel, Castiel's head connecting heavily with the wall. "You are a drain on this camp. When are you going to do us all a favor and just catch a bullet already?"

Castiel's hands came up to grasp Dean's. "What are you talking about, Dean?"

"Inviting _him_ to live with you, what the Hell, Cas? You _aren't_ his angel."

"So, what? Am I yours?"

Dean released Castiel, shoving him once more into the wall before stalking to the other side of the room. "We both know you can't be any ones angel. Not any more." Without a backward glance, Dean left.

Outside he ran into Becky and Chuck. He scowled at them, but kept going. Becky and Chuck shared a look, and quickly mounted the steps to Castiel's cabin. Cas was slumped against the wall.

"Oh, angel…"

Castiel laughed, "Becky, you are the only person who still calls me that."

Becky smiled kindly, "Sometimes I think you need a reminder."

Chuck peeled his friend off the wall, and ran a hand through Castiel's hair. His hand came back bloody. "Cas…"

Castiel knocked Chuck's hand away. "I'm fine." He pushed himself up the wall and stumbled towards his bedside table where one of his many stashes was hidden.

Cas grabbed a bottle, and without bothering to look at the label, popped a few and lay back against a pillow to wait for them to kick in. "What did you two want anyway?"

Becky grabbed Chuck's hand. "We're leaving."

That caught Castiel's attention. He propped himself up to stare at them. "What?"

Chuck looked at his feet. "Becky, Rufus and I are getting out of here. We want you to come too."

Castiel frowned, "I gave up everything for Dean, I will not leave him now."

"Come on, angel." Becky pouted. "He treats you like shit. He just _told_ you he wants you dead. Come with us." She winked. "I can guarantee it'll cut your life expectancy in half."

Cas looked away, "I said I won't leave him."

Chuck sighed, "He doesn't want _you_ around. He wants the _memory_ of you; back when you were so inhuman it hurt. If we leave now he can keep that. The same goes for me and Becky and Rufus. He doesn't want us around. Not really."

"I just don't know."

"Well listen, we're not leaving until around midnight. You have until then to make up your mind."

Chuck turned and walked out the door, with a parting wave Becky followed.

Castiel sat on his bed and just thought. That was one part of his personality that hadn't changed; he could sit still and stare at nothing for hours.

As the sun began to set, the bell for dinner rang, bringing Castiel out of his thoughts. He ran a hand roughly through his hair and retrieved another bottle of pills. He grabbed a handful and paused. _He wants the memory of you._ With an irritated shout he threw the bottle at a wall, sending pills flying everywhere. He got up and began pacing.

A few hours later he came to a decision.

The answer was obvious really. He always gave Dean what he needed, what he _wanted._

Castiel walked into the rooms bathroom; it didn't work like it was supposed to, but it had a cracked mirror and that was all he needed. When he emerged, he was freshly shaven, and a certain confidence had returned to his eyes.

He wandered around the room, picking up what few things he would need, and leaving the rest. He grabbed a few changes of clothes, a picture he'd managed to find of Dean where he was smiling, and his old trench coat that he'd stopped wearing after Dean had punched him for it. He wrote a short note, and walked out.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting just enough light to see by. Castiel headed towards the gate. As he drew closer he saw a small SUV being packed silently by two men. They paused as he approached; Chuck grinned. "Told you he'd come."

"Took you long enough, boy." Rufus smiled widely, clasping Castiel's shoulder and taking his bag.

Quietly Castiel addressed the men. "There's one more thing I have to do."

Rufus nodded. "Okay, but be quick."

With a quick smile, Castiel turned and walked away into the night.

* * *

Dean was bored; it had been _hours_ since his future self had locked him in here.

This time his arms were high above his head, making sure he couldn't pull out another nail, or reach anything he could use to get out of this.

He honestly didn't know what he had done this time; all he knew was he had quite _politely _suggested he move in with Cas. He'd argued that he could try to get Cas clean. Plus he'd be out of his future-self's way. It was a _good thing._

Castiel had smiled, his eyes warmer than he'd seen them since his little time traveling ordeal. He had agreed fully.

Then the other Dean had snapped.

He'd sent Cas away, locked Dean up good and tight, and then he'd gone back to Castiel's cabin. There was some shouting, and then Dean had left looking livid, and Chuck and some girl – probably Becky, but from this distance it was hard to tell – had entered rather timidly.

He desperately wanted to know what was happening.

Soon Chuck had left, with what looked like blood on his hands, and then Cas was all alone. Dean gave up on watching and sat back.

Once the moon rose, Dean watched the light play across the floor. It really was quite beautiful, and helped him keep track of the time as the shadows moved.

The door opened sometime later. He was about to shout and make some kind of fuss for his future-self to deal with. That was when he saw Castiel. He was a vision from the past. He was clean shaven, and wearing his trench coat; a slight frown graced his face. Deans eyes widened in shock. "Cas…"

The Fallen angel smiled and knelt before him. "Dean."

Castiel wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, and pulled the hunter in, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips before burying his face in his neck.

Dean didn't know what to do, he was completely sill least any small movement brought this to an end. Finally Cas seemed to get a hold of himself, and moved back. He pressed a firm kiss to Dean's forehead. "Goodbye," he whispered softly, standing to leave.

Realization flashed in Dean's eyes. "Cas, no!"

Castiel smiled sadly, and with one final look walked out the door.

"Cas! Castiel, please! Please!" Dean tugged at the cuffs, pulling desperately, but they wouldn't give. "No, no, no. Cas!" He kept pulling until his wrists were sore, raw, and bleeding. One tear slipped down his check, and finally he gave up struggling, and lay limp against his bonds. "No."

* * *

I totally just realized that in the final copy you all see my page breaks have been removed, so I'm adding them back in. Sorry for any confusion.

Reviews are love


	2. Chapter 2

When Castiel returned he found the SUV packed, and the other three waiting. He slid in the front seat next to Rufus and they were off.

When they got to the gate separating the camp from the rest of the world, Castiel got out, and silently opened it, allowing the vehicle to pass. He locked it securely behind them, and the SUV drove silently into the night.

After a few miles, Rufus asked the big question. "Where do we want to go?"

Becky leaned forward, wrapping her arms around the headrest. "Well, we should probably avoid the major parts of the city. I don't know how Dean's going to take us leaving, and I really don't want to find out."

Chuck laughed a little nervously. "It'll be fine. Dean wouldn't shoot us… would he?"

Rufus smirked, "You're the prophet Chuck, you tell me."

"We should go to Bobby's." The group looked at Castiel curiously.

"Why?" Rufus asked, "We know he's dead."

"Yes, but his house was built like a fortress, he even had a demon proof panic room in the basement."

Rufus frowned. "That place has to be destroyed by now."

Becky smiled, "Then we'll fix it up."

"Yeah," Chuck agreed, "That'll give us something to do before we all, well, die."

Rufus smiled grimly, "Well, alright then." He turned his attention back to the road. "Bobby's it is." He reached into the vehicles glove box and found a CD and rammed it into the player. The old music brought life to the dark, desolate surroundings.

* * *

Sunlight filtered through the cabins window, stirring Dean.

His arms ached from being handcuffed all evening. A trail of blood ran from his wrists down to where it had stained his shirt.

Dean shifted so he could see Castiel's cabin again. A small part of him hoped he had misinterpreted last evening, and Cas was still there.

He was still watching when his future self entered. He snorted, unlocking the handcuffs. "Were you really so bored you had to hurt yourself?"

The younger Dean stood up, rubbing his wrists. "No, I wasn't bored." He punched the elder as hard as he could, sending him flying back. "Been thinking about_ that_ for a while though." Dean quickly stepped over the body and ran out the door, straight to Castiel's cabin.

"Cas? Cas!" No one answered, the cabin was empty and cold. "Fuck."

"You wanna tell me what the hell is going on?" Dean turned to find his elder blocking the doorway.

Anger flared in his chest. "You bastard."

The elder frowned. "Whatever. I'm going on a supply run. You tell that stoned hippie there's a meeting later." Before Dean could say a word he turned and left.

Dean shook his head bitterly and moved to the bed. He grabbed a pillow held it close. A piece of paper caught his attention.

_I'm sorry Dean, for everything I couldn't do and for all the ways I let you down. I hope this will help make it better. – Cas_

Dean closed his eyes, crumpling the note in his fist. "You didn't let me down Cas, I let you down." His chest tightened painfully and he realized he needed to see the angel _now_, and he knew just the person who could help him.

He stepped out into the sun light, momentarily deafened by the roar of the convoy leaving. He smiled grimly. Good. He'd have a few hours without the older Dean breathing down his neck.

Dean quickly set off across the camp for Chuck's cabin. Hopefully the prophet had seen something.

* * *

"Damn it!" Dean punched the wooden doorframe. Chuck and Becky were gone too! Their cabin was not completely empty, but Chuck's horde of toilet paper, and a few essentials _were _missing, and it screamed to him that no one was coming back.

Dean sat down on the top step, and watched people walk back and forth in the afternoon sun. If Chuck and Becky had left…who else was here that Dean knew from, well, from _his_ time. Silently he ticked off the people who had died before his arrival, then those who had died since. There was only one person left. Rufus. Dean asked around, and quickly located the correct cabin.

He entered quietly. Like the other two cabins, it wasn't exactly empty, but the lack of good whiskey and other small items called out to him that the occupant had left.

Dean stepped outside. He needed a plan. If Castiel wasn't here, he saw no reason to stay. What he needed was a vehicle.

* * *

They all agreed that Bobby's house was perfect.

Sort of.

The house was still standing, but the interior was a wreak. Becky grinned, clearly pleased. She and Chuck quickly got to work picking up the bigger debris. Becky tried to find a broom to sweep up the broken glass.

Rufus was very happy with the scrap yard. "This place will be impenetrable once I get through with it. Just think of all the traps we can put out there. It's perfect!"

Castiel was silent. He remembered this house when it was full of life. Bobby doing research while Sam and Dean tormented one another. The warm comfort of family. Team Free-Will. The house was filled with the shadows of old memories. It would be a good place to die, he mused. He quietly moved to the kitchen, and righted the wheel chair still lying there, riddled with bullet holes.

Rufus pulled him out of his thoughts, handing him an arm full of long boards and a hammer. "Come on boy, let's get these windows boarded up."

Castiel smiled and followed him into the first room.

It was a wonderful way to spend the next few hours. Hard work has a way of clearing the mind. Castiel couldn't remember the last time he felt this happy.

When night had fallen, Rufus and Castiel had deemed the first floor secure. They moved to the study, and found Chuck and Becky just finishing up as well. Castiel grabbed his bag and set out some candles. Becky handed out some rations and the group sat down in a rough circle.

Chuck finished up his share of the food. "This isn't going to be enough to last us very long. Tomorrow we're going to have to go into town."

Rufus grinned brightly. "Good, I've been wanting to kill some Croats."

There was a murmur of agreement.

"Angel?"

"Yes, Becky?"

"I haven't seen you take any pills all day."

"She's right, boy. You aren't trying to quit cold are you?" Rufus grabbed a bottle of whiskey and offered it meaningfully. "We don't want you to go into withdrawal when our lives might depend on it."

Castiel accepted the bottle wearily, sipping a little. "I'll be fine." He handed it back.

Rufus laughed, and downed a third the brown liquid. "I'm not trying to save any, boy. I don't think we'll be here long enough for it to matter."

"Don't talk like that Rufus." Becky chided. "I think we could live here for a while."

"Sweetheart, either demons will kill us in our sleep, Croats will kill us while we hunt for supplies, or Dean will kill us when he finds out where we're hiding."

"No way," Becky proudly grabbed her husbands hand. "Chuck would see it coming!"

"Actually, Becky…" Chuck said softly, "I only see what happens to Dean, uh, _our_ Dean that is."

Castiel looked thoughtfully at the front door, "Personally, I think the Croats will get us."

Rufus raised his bottle. "Here's to that. Because I don't want to know what _Dean_ would do us. The Croats at least will kill us quick."

"Hmm." Chuck mused. "I think he'd do it fast. One bullet a piece, and he'll burry us in the woods."

"Nah," Rufus shook his head, "He wouldn't bother burying us."

"I don't know…" Castiel smiled. "Maybe he'll go old testament on us. Crucifixion would certainly send a message to the camp."

Rufus, Chuck, and Castiel doubled over with laughter as Becky scowled. "This isn't funny."

The men laughed harder. "Yes it is!"

"Come on Becky," Chuck said brightly, "Who knows, we might all die tomorrow. Why not laugh?"

Becky smiled uncertainly.

They spent the rest of the evening laughing and joking. The future was uncertain, but tonight they were among friends, and nothing was going to bring them down.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean moved to the gate. A man with a large gun was patrolling the area. Dean wasn't sure how Castiel and the others had left. Maybe they knew something he didn't; after all they'd lived here longer.

Dean moved away. He needed to find a vehicle, there _had_ to be another _somewhere._ He needed to leave before his future-self realized what was going on.

He moved to where the Impala rested on four cinder blocks. "Oh baby, I wish you were runnin'"

Dean carefully moved past it and saw a grouping of three or four small cars. Apparently they were too small to help during runs. He picked one that would be easy to take out; it had a black paint job, room for two passengers, and thankfully, it had a full tank of gas. He checked, and the keys were in the glove box. Perfect.

Timing was essential. He would leave as soon as the convoy was back. With any luck, the gate would still be open and the other cars would be too low on gas to be able to chase for very long. Judging on time this meant Dean had about twenty minutes to pack up and get into position.

The guard on duty had just passed, leaving the gate unguarded for the moment. Dean moved the car into a good position. It was still hidden and would have an easy time shooting out the gate. He ducked out, and ran back to his future-self's cabin. He grabbed a few guns and a knife, and then moved back to the car.

He had time to think now; where would they have gone? Dean dearly hoped they hadn't gone out to die, and that they were hiding out somewhere. But still… he had no idea where to look. He came to a decision. He'd gone on one of these runs before, so he knew where the city was. He would go there, and drive along the outskirts. He doubted they'd taken any food from the camp, so with any luck he'd see Castiel and the others while they found supplies.

* * *

They watched from the trees on the top of a hill as a group of men completed the supply run. There wasn't screaming, but there was a lot of shooting. Two men were lost. Rufus shifted the gun in his arms restlessly. "Almost makes me wish we hadn't left."

Castiel searched the running men for Dean; both if he was honest with himself. He responded distantly. "We just need to wait until they move out, and then you can kill all the Croats you like."

"Good."

Chuck looked around nervously. He shifted uncomfortably. "Shouldn't we be hiding better than this?"

Castiel shrugged. "They're too busy to look at anything else."

Becky smiled mischievously. "Clearly a lapse in security procedures."

They smiled.

* * *

Dean was annoyed. Usually in the morning Chuck would meet with him to tell him what supplies they would need. He hadn't met with him this today. They were going into this mission blind, grabbing everything they could find.

Rufus was missing too. Usually he spent the whole job cleaning guns or knives, and killing Croats like it was some kind of competition. It was funny. The supply run was rather dull without him.

Dean swore, blowing away three more Croats who came out of an ally.

If they were trying another "intervention" with Castiel he was going to have to beat some sense into them. Castiel was a lost cause; he didn't understand why they couldn't see that. If the _former_ angel was going to keep distracting his men, he might have to take steps. He didn't want to _hurt_ his friend, but he might have to teach him a lesson.

He shot two more Croats as they rounded a corner.

His men were running back. Two weren't fast enough and were taken out by some pursuing Croats. No great loss; it would make the rest faster. Those who made it back loaded the supplies quickly, and then the convoy headed back to camp.

Near the trees he thought he saw something. It was probably nothing. He put it out of his mind.

* * *

The convoy left. Castiel cocked his weapon, and drapped it across his shoulders. In his trench coat, with the light glinting off his gun, he was a sight to behold.

Becky grinned. Cas frowned. "What?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing."

Chuck rolled his eyes.

Rufus started down the hill. "Come on boys and girls. The day is young, the Croats are fresh, and we're miles away from home. What more could you ask for?"

"Hmm…" Chuck thought, making his way carefully down the hill. "How about a pile of extra soft toilet paper."

Rufus rolled his eyes. "You and your toilet paper."

"Better than whiskey."

"You take that back, boy."

Becky sighed loudly. "What do you want, Cas?"

Castiel thought for a minute. "Nothing."

"You have to want _something_."

Castiel looked at each of his friends in succession. "I have everything I need."

Becky grinned slyly. "What about Dean?"

Chuck raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were running _away_ from him…"

"_Past_ Dean."

A small smile tugged at Castiel's mouth. "I do miss him." He took a deep breath, and quickly changed the subject. "What do you want, Becky?"

"A puppy."

"What? No way."

"What's wrong with a puppy? It'd be all cute and furry." She stared off dreamily. "I'd have something to cuddle with late at night."

Chuck seemed offended. "You could cuddle with _me_."

"Mm, I don't know. You're not really cute and furry…"

"Hey!"

Rufus laughed, pushing Chuck lightly. "_I'm_ cute and furry."

Becky smiled flirtatiously, "Really? How interesting…"

"You know," Castiel said slowly, "I am too. Women tend to _love_ hold me through the night."

Rufus nodded seriously. "I suppose you'll just have to sleep with both of us to decide who's the better cuddler."

Chuck glared halfheartedly. "Hey! I'm standing right here!"

"Yeah, we know."

"What's the matter Chuck?" Castiel winked. "Not cool with a four way?"

Chuck smirked. "Tell you what, Cas. You can sleep with Becky if I can sleep with Dean."

Rufus shuddered. "There's a mental image I didn't need."

* * *

Dean was sitting low in the car. The guard had passed twice since he'd been waiting.

Dean was just about to give up hope and plow straight through the gate, locks and fences be damned, when he heard a distant rumble. Dean grinned, and stuck the key in the ignition.

As soon as the gate was opened and the first car entered Dean turned the key, and the engine roared to life. The guard whipped around to face him and Dean gunned it, shooting through the gate before anyone could react.

Dean smiled. Oh yeah. He was ready. The sun was shining, the car was running smoothly, and he had a full tank of gas. He was going to find Castiel, and everything would be right again.

* * *

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	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: Thanks to those who have reviewed! You make me very happy. For those who favorited, I would thank you all individually, but there isn't enough room. To answer a question, yes, I _do_ have a livejournal account (therealcaptain), and I am a member of DeanCastiel. I'm waiting for my beta to…beta this, and then I will post it there.

On to the story!

* * *

The car roared over a hill. Dean's patience was running thin. He pushed the accelerator down to the floor and watched the speedometer gently move higher.

He clenched his teeth, _needing_ to go faster. Why the hell did he pick this slow ass car?! 90mph? Seriously? That was as fast as he could push it? He punched the steering wheel, and yanked the glove compartment open searching for some kind of music, _anything_ that could distract him from the worrying knot in his stomach. By some sort of miracle he found something, a cassette. Dean fumbled with the plastic case and rammed it into the player. Music filled the car.

It was nothing he recognized, nothing he would have picked for himself, but it did the trick. He was able to placate himself until the trees began to thin and he could make out the tops of buildings. "About damn time." He growled.

When the fence came into sight he slowed the car, and carefully pulled off the road, navigating through trees and bushes. He kept a close eye on his surroundings, looking for anything unusual.

After a few hundred feet he saw it; the sun had flashed off of something metallic. Dean stopped the car, grabbed his guns, and got out. He climbed a rather steep hill, and at the top, a few feet back in the woods was an SUV. Dean's grin faded when he noticed it was empty. He looked into the city. Faintly he could hear rapid gun shots, but he couldn't see anything.

Rather than risk entering the city and missing his friends, he decided to stay by their car, and confront them when they came back.

Dean leaned against the car making himself comfortable, and he waited.

* * *

The confusion that followed his past-self's departure would have been amusing if he was twenty years younger. Now it was… frustrating to say the least. People were running frantically around the camp, seeing what, if anything was missing.

Dean didn't think they'd find anything; he knew himself well enough to know that. Taking from people who clearly needed it wasn't something he'd ever have done.

A woman he didn't recognize hurried over breathlessly. "We didn't find any supplies missing, but…"

He sighed. "But what?"

"Two cars and four people are."

That caught Dean's attention. "Who?"

"Rufus, Chuck, Becky, and Cas."

"Cas…" He really shouldn't have been surprised Cas left. He'd basically told him to do that, or die, but Castiel had always been with him. No matter how bad things got, Cas had been there. His absence stung more than it should have. That emotion wouldn't do.

"Um. Sir?" Dean forced himself to give the women his attention. "What do you want us to do, sir?" The whole camp paused, waiting for his reaction. There was only one answer he could give.

"We bring them back." He couldn't let his younger self die after all; it was self preservation, really. He looked at the woman. "Go fill a car. A fast one."

She ran off to take care of it.

He couldn't let people think that they could just take a car and leave. But he would take care of that when the time came.

As for _Dean_ that little _time traveler_ was staying here. Whether he wanted to or not.

* * *

Castiel was running as fast as his legs would carry him, Chuck was barely keeping up beside him. The Croats were pursuing, no more than two feet behind them.

Castiel was smiling widely; nothing like the prospect of death to make you feel alive.

They rounded a corner and dove to the ground, turning and firing up at the pursuing Croats. Rufus and Becky leapt out of no where and unloaded their weapons, bullets tearing apart the bodies effortlessly.

The silence that followed was almost deafening.

Slowly Castiel rolled to his side, and started laughing hysterically. Chuck, panting, placed a hand on Cas's shoulder, and collapsed next to him.

Becky was furious. "That was fucking insane, what the _fuck_ were you thinking?!"

Castiel tried to control himself, choked off a few laughs and took a big breath. "What? That wasn't fun for you?" He got to his feet and offered Chuck a hand, helping him up. "Anyway, we got what we came for." He tossed Becky the small drawstring bag.

Becky ripped it opened and grabbed a can, reading the label. "You and Chuck almost got yourselves eaten for a can…of Chunky Beef Stew?"

Castiel and Chuck shared an amused look. Chuck smiled widely. "What? You don't like stew? I think there are some poptarts in there."

Becky threw the bag back at them. "This isn't funny! What if those _things_ got you?!"

Castiel smiled innocently. "Then we wouldn't be having this lovely conversation."

Rufus clapped Chuck on the shoulder. "I have to admit, that was exciting."

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well. You weren't the one being chased."

"True. I was living vicariously through you."

"Wow, Rufus. Big word there."

"I try. Do we need anything else?"

"Nah. We got some food, some water. That's all we need, right?"

Castiel looked thoughtful. "We _might_ want to find some gas or something if we intend to come back."

They looked around. The only cars they could see were overturned. Many were charred and missing doors. The seats had been reduced to wire framing, and the tires were slashed. They wouldn't be able to steal any fuel from them.

Rufus loaded a gun, and handed another to Becky. "We'll go find a gas station and try to siphon some fuel. Ya'll go load up the car, and for the love of God, keep the Croats away."

"God isn't here, Rufus. I'm not sure if he ever was." Castiel said, as he walked back down an ally towards the perimeter fence that divided the city from the rest of the world.

It was a long walk back. They looked around carefully for any Croats, but the way looked clear. Chuck turned thoughtfully to his friend, and noticed Castiel was shaking slightly. "Hey, Cas… What are you doing?"

"What do you mean, Chuck?" He winked. "I think it's pretty obvious what I'm doing."

"No, not walking. You know what I mean. Why are you stopping cold?"

They walked in silence for a few minutes. "I don't know." Castiel replied softly. "I suppose I just want to be able to look at myself in the mirror before we all kick the bucket." He looked guiltily at Chuck and found the other man smiling softly at him.

Castiel kicked a rock. "So what's going on in 'prophet-land'?"

"Oh, same old stuff; Dean's being a dick, and freaking out for no reason. One of these days he's going to confront the devil, and get his neck snapped."

"Maybe he'd do better if we went back and helped him."

"No, the way I see it, he'll either send us off to die, or kill us himself. I'm a little shaky on that."

They reached the fence; Castiel lifted an edge for Chuck and followed him through. They started up the hill, and when the truck came into sight they froze. Someone was leaning against the door. There was only one person it could be.

The person stood straighter, and took a few steps towards them.

Castiel swallowed. "Hello, Dean."

Dean took another step, and then started to run, the hill giving him momentum. He tackled Cas, and clinging to one another they tumbled back down the hill.

Dean ended up on top. He pushed Cas into the ground hard, and kissed him with everything he had. When they finally had to break for air, Dean buried his face in Castiel's neck, and bit him hard. He licked at the offending wound, and kissed it softly. "Don't ever leave me like that again Cas. Ever. Again."

Castiel brought his arms up and slowly wrapped them around Dean, hugging him softly. He nuzzled Dean's ear, hiding his amusement. "I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean pushed Cas down sharply. "This isn't funny Cas. Promise me!"

Cas rolled his eyes, and locked his gaze with Dean's. "I will never leave you again. I promise." He grinned broadly. "Now get down here and kiss me again."

* * *

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	5. Chapter 5

Eventually Cas talked Dean into letting him up, and they made their way back to Chuck. He smiled shyly. "Nice to see you again, Dean."

"Well, I couldn't let you guys go off and have all the fun."

Chuck gave Castiel a furtive glance, and leaned close to Dean. "Are you sure you're backing the right team?"

"What?"

Cas rolled his eyes. "Chuck…"

"No, really." Chuck frowned at Dean seriously. "Are you sure you should have come out here? You'd be safer back at camp."

"Chuck, where ever Cas is, that's where I should be. I don't care what's _safer._"

They heard laughter. "My, my, is that Dean Winchester?"

Dean turned, and saw Rufus and Becky climbing the hill, carrying two red containers. Becky smirked. "The better question would be, is this the good Dean, or the bad Dean?"

Dean groaned. "Geez Becky, you make it sound like I'm a schizophrenic."

"Ah, good Dean then."

Rufus winked. "We may not have enough seats; you might have to sit on _someone's_ lap."

Castiel leveled a gun at Rufus's head. "Don't make me shoot you."

Rufus laughed and knocked the gun away. "Cas, I know you, and I happen to _know_ that isn't loaded."

Confused, Cas looked at his gun. Rufus was right, it wasn't loaded. "How did you know?"

"Because even after all these years of being human you still haven't learned the most basic rules regarding guns." He pushed past them and attached a funnel to the red case he was carrying. He started to fill up the car. "The very first rule is, if you unload into a mob of Croats, you should probably put more bullets into your gun afterwards. Otherwise…" He winked. "You won't be able to shoot your friends later. Now get the fuck into the car."

Becky hurried into the front seat, and Chuck groaned. "Aw Becky, don't make _me_ sit with the love birds!"

Cas clapped Chuck on the shoulder on his way to the car. "It's fine. You can sit between us."

Dean glared, but held the door open for Chuck. The prophet sighed. "Damn it, Cas, this is _worse._ Now he's mad at me."

Rufus started the car. "Come on, Chuck. Man up."

Becky winked at Dean. "You may want to buckle up. Rufus _sucks_ at driving."

"Woman, don't make me throw you out of this car."

"Bring it on, old man."

* * *

Dean sat low in his seat, keeping the speeding car ahead of him in view.

Mindlessly he sipped at a beer. Three people were in the car with him; they cleaned their guns, smirking and joking darkly about the fate that would befall their prey. Dean wasn't sure where Cas and the others had gotten off to, but he was sure his past-self would lead him right to them. He found he didn't need to pay that much attention though, it seemed like they were heading back to the city. How convenient.

When he got to the city, the car was gone.

His younger-self had to be around here somewhere, there was no where else he could have gone. There were no side roads, there were no turn offs, there was only _here_. He drummed on the wheel irritably. The other occupants of the car knew better than to ask any questions.

Dean looked down and saw something. He got out of the car and went to investigate. His passengers exchanged a look, and followed. Dean knelt by the road. There were tracks in the mud.

A man crouched beside him. "Should we follow him?"

Dean stood. "Yes."

He drove slowly, not wanting to lose the trail, and shortly came upon a car. He knew his younger-self wasn't there, but they checked anyway. Dean looked around; he had been a hunter once, back before the Croats gave him more trouble than anything else. He knew how to track. "You guys stay here. He probably won't come back, but stay just in case. Oh," He looked at them sternly. "Don't kill him."

He turned back to the bushes. There. A footprint. He'd gone that way. Dean followed.

Quickly he came across a rather large steep hill. There was a glint of silver at the top. Dean moved into the trees and silently made his way up.

He stopped as he got close. He could see himself leaning against a car, looking out at the city. He watched and waited.

When Dean started to run down the hill, he almost gave chase until he saw them. Chuck and Cas.

He watched as Cas fell down the hill, and as Chuck kept climbing. He watched as _they_ kissed in the sun, and felt something dark uncurl in his chest. He watched as the others came. He watched them leave. Only then did he move. He walked back to his car slowly. His men stood as he approached.

"Did you find them?"

"Yes."

They waited for more. When none came, one of the braver men prompted. "And?"

Dean cleared his throat, remembering where he was. "And I saw which direction they were heading in; I know where they've gone."

"Are we going to follow, sir?"

Dean grinned darkly. "First we'll get more men, and then we will follow."

"How many more men, sir?"

"All of them."

* * *

They drove with music playing softly.

As they got close, Dean started to recognize his surroundings. He barked a laugh. "Bobby's? You guys are hiding at _Bobby's_?"

Rufus glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "Don't laugh, boy, it was _Castiel's_ idea."

Cas shrugged. "Better than just driving aimlessly till the car dies."

Becky murmured in agreement.

"Besides," Rufus continued, "that place has a Hell of a lot of places to lay in ambush."

"Ambush of who?"

Rufus considered this for a while, and finally shrugged. "Ambush of _someone_."

Chuck looked at his hands, and said quietly. "Dean, probably."

Dean looked at him in confusion. "Why would I – he, come after you guys?"

"Maybe to get you, maybe to prove to the camp that people can't just _leave_, or maybe, like you, to get Cas back."

Cas laughed. "He's not going to come to get _me_ back."

Chuck threw an arm around Castiel's shoulders. "I don't know Cas," he said suggestively, "You are one sexy beast."

Dean punched him. "Hey, back off."

"Ow!" Chuck held his arm in mock pain. "What, you _don't_ think he's a sexy beast?"

Dean blushed, as the car erupted in laughter.

The light was fading when they drove up to the house, and they hurried to unpack the car.

Becky shoved a bag into Castiel's hands. "Here's the food you think is _so_ important."

Cas grinned. Chuck looked at the bag despondently. "Hey, I ran for that too!"

"Fine, Chuck, you can have _this _one." She passed him a red container.

"But that one was _mine_. This one's just –"

"Chuck. House. Now."

"Fine, fine." He turned, and followed Castiel.

Dean stood awkwardly by the car. "Have anything for me?"

"Nope!" Becky breezed by him carrying the last bag.

"Here, boy. Help me with the guns." Rufus passed Dean an armful, and slammed the trunk. Dean followed him into the house.

Inside, Becky was fussing over Castiel as he unpacked a bag. She kept saying things he didn't understand. "Oh! Oh, maybe it was the can of peaches. They're totally worth dying for. Oh no! Clearly, it was the… what is this… Peanut butter? Ah, that must have been it."

Finally Castiel shoved the bag down. "Becky!" He turned back to the counter and took a deep breath. He turned back and saw Dean setting guns on a table. "You're right Becky. It was the peanut butter." He handed her the bag and hurried to Dean's side, escorting him to another room.

Behind them Becky shouted. "Damn it, Cas! We're not done!"

Chuck was sitting near a window, he looked up as they entered. "What is she shouting about?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. I think she wants to see you though."

Chuck looked at them, then at the kitchen, then back at them. "I think I'll go outside for a minute…"

"That might be a good idea…"

Dean was rather confused. "What was that all about, Cas?"

Castiel paused and considered Dean. "I didn't expect to see you again."

Dean frowned, clearly remembering that evening.

Castiel took his hand. "I'm very happy I was wrong."

Dean closed the distance between them, kissing Castiel with all the pent up emotion he'd been dealing with. He kissed him with all the fear, with all the desperation, and with all the joy he had. They broke apart panting. Dean was reluctant to leave the angels mouth so quickly, and began to bite at Castiel's lips and when Cas turned his head, to suck bruises into his neck. Castiel brought his hands up to rest against Dean's shoulders, and pressed soft kisses to his jaw. He breathed against Dean's ear. "I think there's a good bed upstairs."

"Really? I was about to suggest the wall."

"Who knows? We've got time for both."

Dean grinned and quickly turned for the stairs.

* * *

So…I was _supposed_ to be studying. Look how well _that_ panned out. Despite my Immunology exam on Monday, my money says the next chapter will be up by Tuesday, maybe Wednesday. Cross your fingers.

**Remember!** Reviews are love. I cry at night when I don't get any….


	6. Chapter 6

This chapter is dedicated to cooltoon2001 who requested a little love between two of our main characters. I hope this satisfies that request.

* * *

It is difficult to climb stairs while removing someone's clothing, especially if you're unwilling to leave that persons mouth. Dean gave it a try anyway.

By the time they reached the guest room Dean had Castiel's shirt unbuttoned, and his pants undone. Cas seemed to have been more successful, and had Dean down to nothing but his boxers.

Dean kicked open the door, and threw Castiel against the wall beside it, immediately moving in to crowd his space. Cas moaned, thrusting his hips up to meet Dean's, his hand inadvertently grabbing at his mark on Dean's arm.

Dean took a step back, forcing himself to pause. Castiel looked at him in confusion. Dean smiled, and took the opportunity to remove the rest of Cas's clothing. "Do you have anything?"

Castiel grinned. "Check my bag."

Reluctantly Dean let his angel go and found the bag. He dug through it and quickly found lube. "Always prepared, huh, Cas?"

"Well, what can I say? You never know when some handsome hunter from the past is going to turn up."

"Oh, is that so?" He moved back, pushing Castiel firmly into the wall. Cas spread his legs, inviting the hunter closer.

Dean slicked his fingers, and sought out Castiel's entrance, pushing one finger in gently. He was surprised at how tight Cas was. Dean honestly didn't want to know. He didn't want to think about it, but as he thrust slowly and felt Cas buck against him, he found he _had_ to ask. He added a second finger. "Cas…I thought you weren't a virgin…"

Castiel gasped, and thrust down on Dean's hand. "I'm not."

Dean grunted and bit Castiel's ear, adding a third finger. "But you're so… When was the last time you were with a … man?"

Cas looked away. Dean tried to follow, unwilling to let Castiel break eye contact. "Cas." He curled his fingers, making Castiel gasp and writhe against him. "Tell me when."

"Since... Since Sam said..."

Dean froze and Castiel looked away guiltily.

Dean swallowed. That was a _long_ time ago. Using his free hand he turned Castiel back to face him, and kissed him slowly, thrusting his fingers in time with his tongue. "I'm sorry, Cas."

Castiel's head shot up. That was _clearly_ not what he'd been expecting to hear. Dean felt guilt drip into his soul, and once more decided if he _ever_ got back to his time, he was going to treat Castiel better. For now, all he could do was pepper Cas's face with kisses, and continue moving and stretching.

When he decided Cas was ready, he removed his fingers, grinning at Castiel's cry of loss, and slicked himself up. Cas wrapped a leg around Dean's waist, and the hunter moved forward, carefully entering the man in his grasp.

Once he was fully sheathed, he paused, giving Castiel time to adjust. Cas did not appreciate the gesture, and fisted a hand in Dean's hair growling. "Move." Dean happily obliged.

He began slowly, relishing in every noise he managed to drag out of Castiel. Cas tightened his grip on Dean, a whine building in the back of this throat. "Please, Dean."

Dean stopped.

"No!" Castiel cried out.

He tried to push himself off the wall, to gain so leverage to continue this himself, but the angle was all wrong; he was stuck in Dean's arms. Dean's heart soared. He licked along Castiel's jaw, ending at curve of his ear. "Guess you'll just have to be patient, huh?"

Castiel grumbled something that sounded vaguely Enochian; Dean laughed, and thrust up sharply, earning another strangled shout.

He continued, slow and deep, his mouth moving across all of Castiel that he could reach, memorizing his taste.

While he would have loved to continue this delicious torture, driving Castiel to the brink of insanity and back, he couldn't. It was too hard. Cas seemed to sense this shift and leaned forward, whispering against his lips, "Let go, Dean. Just let go."

With a groan, Dean abandoned all pretense of control, and pounded into the angel. He was rewarded with a choked cry, and Castiel struggled to find purchase on the wall behind him. Dean reached between them and gripped Castiel tight, stroking him in time with his thrusts. Dean came with a strangled shout, and Castiel followed shortly after, Dean's name on his lips.

They slumped together against the wall, tired and spent. Dean ran a hand through Castiel's hair, pressing kisses anywhere he could reach.

"Dean?" Cas panted.

"Yeah?"

"Bed."

Using each other and the wall behind them for leverage, they managed to stumble over to the bed. Dean threw back the blankets and burrowed down into the mattress. Castiel followed, molding himself against Dean's back.

Cas brushed his lips against the nape of Dean's neck, and murmured something the hunter couldn't make out. Dean entwined their fingers.

It could wait. After all, they had all the time in the world.

* * *

The camp was quiet when Dean arrived. That wouldn't do.

He turned to his three companions. "You two. Go wake anyone who can hold a gun. You." He pointed to the third. "Grab some people and start filling the cars."

"Yes, sir!"

Dean watched as they ran off to do his bidding. A tight smile was the only thing that gave away his pride at how quickly they carried out his orders.

He stood in the coming darkness, contemplating what he would tell his men. Even he had to admit he was acting strangely. He knew it wouldn't take all of the camp to bring back the four escapees, but for some reason he wanted his people to see what happened to people who ran off into the night, for them to see what happened to people who _stole_ from the camp. Admittedly, they hadn't stolen much, only a car, but stealing is stealing. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had to wonder if this was his pride talking. An even smaller part wondered if it was jealousy.

Gradually people came to him, setting up a loose circle, awaiting his orders. Within an hour, the majority of the camp was around him, loading their guns. Dean cleared his throat, and a silence fell. "Alright. Everyone grab a gun and some ammunition. We're going up against some of this camps best hunters, and you can bet they're going to be trying to kill you. We're not going to give them the opportunity."

A meek girl in the crowd hesitantly raised her hand. "Sir, are we going to kill them?"

Dean smirked. "That's up to them. We're going to pin them down. They can choose to surrender or die."

There was a soft murmur across the crowd. For a moment it looked like someone was going to ask why they were even bothering. It was only _four men_. Even if he felt they were a threat, everyone knew that on their own they would eventually die; they would get taken out by Croats, or any of the other terrifying things that existed outside the camp.

Dean put on his coldest face, and glared out at the surrounding mob, daring anyone to say anything.

It worked, and the voices died down.

"Good. Now go get ready. We leave at day break."

* * *

Cool. So. I only have one exam left! But the next chapter is pretty much done already, so you still wont be waiting that long.

Anyway. This chapter has me feeling a little…awkward. I'm not sure if it's any good. The beginning gave me issues. The end gave me issues. The whole chapter just hates me. So I'd love to hear your thoughts.

In other words…Review!


	7. Chapter 7

As the sun broke, a convoy of cars sat near the gate, packed full with people and ammunition. Dean gave the signal and they started to drive.

It wasn't long before Bobby's house came into view. The cars fanned out, and soon had the place surrounded.

Dean remembered this house well. It was full of old long forgotten memories. He closed his eyes, and saw Christmas with his surrogate family. He saw Sam's bright smile when they picked out a tree and Bobby's funny yet thoughtful gifts. He saw Castiel covered in tinsel and fake snow, his perplexed expression when he first saw the angel on top of the tree, and the way his eyes lit up when he first tasted hot chocolate. He could almost feel the heat, and smell the aromas coming from the kitchen.

Then he saw Sam in the basement, screaming and crying, going threw detox. He saw the disappointment written in Bobby's face when he told him Sammy was never coming home. Castiel's resigned expression when Dean finally broke and tortured a demon.

His eyes were hard when he opened them.

He turned and nodded to a car on his right. Five men jumped out, carrying large containers full of gasoline, spreading it quickly on everything that could burn, as close to the house as they dared.

A sniper set up on an old car, quickly scoping out the house. "Sir, I've got five men in the lower left hand room."

Dean nodded. "The kitchen."

"Should I fire, sir?"

"Just a warning shot. Don't kill anyone. Not yet." Dean raised his voice. "Everyone, fan out. Make sure you've got cover, and wait for my signal."

He lifted an old megaphone and issued his warning. What happened from here was in their hand. He hoped they put up a fight. He was itching for one.

* * *

Dean blinked awake. Sunlight from the window gave the room a soft golden glow. For a moment he wondered what had woken him up… Then the bed dipped, and he felt hands skate down his chest, and lips caress his navel, before engulfing him.

A startled shout escaped his lips. He gripped Castiel's hair tight, struggling not to come then and there.

Castiel released him slowly, dragging his tongue up his shaft in the most obscene way possible. Dean was reduced to a quivering mass, moaning Castiel's name, lost in ecstasy.

Cas gripped his base firmly and proceeded to give his head special attention, licking, sucking, and trying to climb _inside_ him.

Finally Dean could take it no more, and came hard enough to see stars; he sank boneless into the pillows.

Castiel dragged himself up and watched as Dean came down. When he could see again, he captured Castiel's lips with a lazy passion.

Cas broke the kiss with a grin. "Good morning."

Dean snuggled into his warmth. "That was one Hell of a good morning."

Castiel smiled at him, his eyes bright and full of joy. It took Dean's breath away. He looked so angelic. Dean's eyes widened, and he buried his face in his hands. "Oh no."

Castiel's head cocked to the side, and Dean just _had_ to kiss him again. Cas would not be distracted. "What's wrong, Dean?"

Dean sighed. "I just realized that Zach probably saw _all _of that."

Castiel smiled evilly. "Good. That fat bastard deserves to know you belong to me."

Dean smacked Cas lightly. "You exhibitionist you."

They heard a disturbance downstairs; the sound of footsteps and soft voices. Cas sighed, "I suppose that's our cue to get up." He slowly got out of bed and grabbed at discarded clothing. Dean was content just to watch him move around. Castiel turned and noticed his attentions. He winked. "If you expect any more of this ass, you better get up."

"Wha – Cas! Don't even joke about that!" He stood, stumbling slightly, and landed with his arms wrapped around Castiel's shoulders, biting at his neck. "You know your ass is mine."

Castiel turned in Dean's arms. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Yes, that's so."

Castiel pressed a kiss to Dean's nose. "Then you can see this ass downstairs." He ducked under Dean's arms and sauntered down the stairs.

Dean sighed loud enough for Castiel to hear, and then set about getting dressed. He was secretly happy Cas had left; it was hard to pretend to be angry when you couldn't keep the smile off your face.

When Dean finally got around to getting downstairs, the floor was surprisingly empty. In the kitchen he saw Becky working with a pan over a stove. It smelled pretty good, and his stomach decided to make itself known. Becky turned slightly, acknowledging him with a smile before turning back to her work. Dean meandered over. "So, where are the others?"

Becky sighed and met his eyes with a grimace. "I think they just had to get out of the house."

Dean's eyes widened. "You mean you guys could hear..."

Becky eyed Dean critically. "You know, I really didn't peg you as a screamer."

Dean flushed red. He jumped when the door flew open, Rufus and Castiel wrestling some large metal frame threw the entrance and settling it on the table. Chuck followed closely carrying an arm full of cords, a yellow bag hanging form his mouth.

Rufus laughed, wiping a trail of sweat from his forehead. "Good job, Cas. That took some handling."

Castiel rolled his eyes. "You weren't so bad yourself, old man."

"Old man? How many _centuries_ do you have on me, angel boy?"

They paused when they saw Dean's glowing face, and Becky straining to hold back a barrage of laughter.

Slowly Dean turned to her. "Becky you no good, son of a, piece of, mother, god damn – "

Becky could no longer contain her peals of laughter, and had to hold on to the counter to stop her shaking.

The bag fell from Chuck's mouth. "I think I'm missing something…"

Becky pointed desperately at Dean. "Your face. _Your face_!"

The others stood in stunned silence. Finally Rufus erupted. "Would you bastards stop messing around and help me?"

Becky turned back to the stove, stirring the contents of the pan. She couldn't stop laughing.

Still glaring at her, Dean made his way over to Rufus. "So, what are we doing?"

"Making a little surprise for anyone who wants to sneak up on us. We can make a pretty good sized bomb out of this."

Chuck looked over the metal scraps they'd dragged in. "Um. Why?"

"You got anything _better_ to do, boy?"

Dean smirked and eyed Castiel. Cas shoved Dean lightly. "I don't think I have the stamina to be doing _that_ all the time."

Becky moved the pan from the heat and practically skipped over to drape herself around Chuck. "With practice I'm sure you can build up to it."

Castiel gave this due consideration. "Yes. A worthy goal."

Chuck groaned, gripping his head. "Oh man, that's just gross. Don't give me those kinds of visuals!"

Becky pressed a soft kiss to Chuck's ear. "Come on, honey. Think of it as a challenge. Who can go longer, us or them?"

Chuck sighed. "But that's not _fair_. He's an _angel_. I'm going to lose so hard."

Castiel held up a hand. "Uh, excuse me, _former_ angel."

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Same difference. You're still going to kick my_ ass_."

Suddenly there was a loud crash outside, followed by loud roar. Rufus rushed to the window, peaking around a set of boards. "Oh, no."

"What?"

"They found us."

Chuck sighed and took Becky's hand. "I guess it was only a matter of time."

Becky squeezed his hand, and tried to force a smile. "I wish it had been a little _longer_."

Chuck frowned. "That would have been impossible. Good things never happen."

Castiel caught Dean's eye and smiled. "Yes. They do."

There was another crash outside, and the heard a loud voice boom. "Come out quietly, or we'll burn the place down."

Rufus snorted. "No they won't. Dean wouldn't do that to Bobby." He quickly looked at their Dean. "No offence, kid." He moved to another room, and brought back a bag full of guns and ammunition, loading them and handing them out.

Dean took his place, peaking around a board. "No. You're right. I wouldn't. But look." He pointed to a group of men pouring gasoline across old cars and piles of wood. "I think they might."

Chuck joined Dean. "How many men have they brought?" He peaked around Dean's hand. "Oh, fuck, they brought everybody."

A bullet ricocheted off one of the boards, sending a wave of splinters across Dean, and forcing them back.

"Huh. I guess they're serious."

Rufus passed a gun to Becky, and another to Chuck. He offered another to Castiel. "Angel, take this."

Cas shook his head. "No. There's no point. There is no way for us to win this."

Rufus forced the gun into Castiel's hands. "Then we'll go down fighting." He handed another gun to Dean. "You might want to stay back here, son."

Dean glared, and grabbed the gun fiercely. "No, I'm fighting with you."

* * *

Oh no! What will happen next?

If you want to find out… Review!


	8. Chapter 8

I was all sad with the latest episode, finding out that Becky and Chuck split… So, maybe they got back together. Maybe Chuck saved her ass from some Croats, and she just fell head over heels or something. Who knows.

* * *

"Everyone got their guns ready? Good. I want Cas in the living room watchin' the front yard. Chuck, you'll be in the study; you've got the back alright? I'll be right above you. Becky, you stay in the kitchen. Dean will be above you. If you all work together, you should be able to keep everyone in sight. Me 'n Cas have all the windows boarded up pretty good, so you should have cover. Do your best not to get killed." He turned to Dean. "Kid, let's move."

Dean rushed over to Castiel, and kissed him desperately before returning to Rufus's side. "Right behind you, old man."

Becky and Chuck kissed quietly as Castiel wished them all luck. Dean shook his head. "You know, back when you guys first ran I thought you were going off to die. Instead I'm going to be here to see it. I don't know which is worse."

"Being here is worse, kid, 'cause you might die with us."

"Now that would create quite the paradox wouldn't it? If I die, than would I exist to lead a mob to kill me?" Dean grinned. "Maybe you should shoot me now, and skip this whole battle."

Rufus chuckled. "I couldn't kill you, kid."

Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Well… maybe if I was _really_ drunk. Come on, let's head upstairs."

"Wait!" Becky shouted urgently. "We can't do this."

The group turned to Becky. "What?"

"We can't! It's not their fault we ran away. Why should they die for our choices?"

"Becky." Rufus sighed in exasperation. "They're going to be doing their damnedest to kill _you_."

"That's different. They're under orders, they don't have a choice."

"Come on, Becky." Chuck said softly, taking her hand. "They have a choice."

She ripped her hand away. "No they don't! They trusted Dean to take care of them, and instead he brought them here! No offence, Dean."

He waved a hand dismissively. "None taken. Besides. You have a point."

"Come on." Rufus growled. "Do you really think Dean is going to let us live? Regardless of whether or not we kill the campers, regardless of whether they pull us out, he's not going to let us get out of this alive! He'd be worried we'd just escape again!"

Dean frowned. "Still. We're better than that. We can't just kill people."

"Fine." Rufus threw up his hands in defeat. "What do _you _suggest?"

Dean smirked.

* * *

They fired the first shot. Dean was happy about that. It just furthered his point that they were in the wrong. From now on his men were acting in defense.

There was a lot of noise; gunfire, screaming, the usual. His men weren't as trained as the runaways, and their shots were less precise, but Dean didn't mind. Their numbers were far greater. They could shoot all they wanted, missing half the time, and still come out on top. Those people inside? They could make the shot every time and still fail. It was a wonder why they even tried. It was clear they were going to lose.

An hour passed.

Dean put his gun down, turning to take stock of how many men he'd lost. He paused. That was weird. It didn't seem like _anyone_ had fallen.

But there was screaming, his men were retreating…

Dean looked up, and saw Rufus taking aim. He followed the trajectory to a group hiding behind a rusted pick up.

Someone screamed, their hand jerking back covered in blood. Another fell clutching his leg. Dean was confused. Did Rufus just miss? No. That couldn't be it. Aside from himself, Rufus was the best shot in the camp. So that meant it was deliberate. Huh. They weren't making kill shots.

Dean frowned. It was cruel. The medical facility back at camp wasn't the best. These people were going to be in pain for awhile, and if the shots were bad enough, they might even face amputation. Death would be kinder.

Dean looked out at his men. Many of them were reaching for their guns, unmindful of their wounds. They kept going. The people in the house were making no headway _at all_. That's why _he_ would kill. If you're going to win, you can't leave your enemy alive behind you. He shook his head; he couldn't believe they could be so stupid.

He picked up his gun, aimed and went back at it.

Another hour passed.

Holes had been blasted through the planks covering the windows, and the sides of the house.

The campers had been driven back from the cars closest to the house.

They were at a stalemate. It was true, Dean could put an end to this fight right now; they could light the gasoline. He frowned. No. He couldn't bring himself to give the order.

Despite himself, Dean began to feel a twist of pride for the people inside. Many of his men were wounded, covered in blood and cowering. He didn't think anyone in the house had even been _hit_. Four people had gone up against… well, if Dean was perfectly honest with himself, he wasn't sure how many people were in his camp. He just didn't care enough.

He paused.

So why did he care that _they_ had left?

Downstairs many of the boards had been broken through. Dean caught sight of Becky tossing a magazine to Cas. He noticed their smiles, and the casual remark Castiel made as Becky laughed before they were under cover once more. Upstairs he watched as his younger-self ran up to Rufus and grabbed a quick swig of whiskey before running back to his station.

Maybe that's was what he missed. That feeling of family, that trust and that belonging.

The revelation left him feeling cold and empty. He picked up his gun.

* * *

The fight couldn't go on forever. They new it couldn't.

Dean growled in frustration. "I'm out!"

Rufus fired off three more rounds, tugged out his magazine, slapping a new one in quickly. The campers just would not stop coming. He couldn't take a breath. "I've got more over here, boy, but you're going to have to come get it yourself!"

Dean was hesitant to leave his post, but he couldn't stop the advancing mob without bullets. He'd have to leave it to Chuck for a minute.

Dean leapt to his feet, practically sprinting to Rufus's side. He paused, for a moment leaning against the wall; he reached for the bullets and had to laugh. Only Rufus would have his whiskey in easy reach along with his ammunition. With a shrug he grabbed the bottle, swallowing quickly. Dean slapped Rufus on the back with a grin, grabbed a handful of magazines, and rushed back to his position.

Making sure he didn't kill anyone was hard work, but these people hadn't done anything wrong, and he wasn't going to throw away their lives.

* * *

"Fuck!"

"What's wrong angel?" Two men tried to make a break for the window. With two shots to the leg they quickly changed their minds and retreated.

"I'm out."

She laughed, shooting at three more who were peaking around the rusted frame of a Subaru. "I'm almost with you there. Here," She grabbed a magazine, and threw it in his general direction. "Catch."

Castiel caught it deftly. "Thanks." He slapped it in quickly, and shot at four men who had started advancing on his position. He dropped one, and the other three hurriedly dragged him back behind a car.

"Man, they just keep coming don't they?" A woman was aiming at her head. She fired and caught the girls hand. She dropped the gun.

"Well, you know what they say about cockroaches…" Castiel fired at a man advancing with something that looked like a grenade. He fell to the ground with a cry clutching at a bloody shoulder.

"Ew. Don't even mention those things!" Becky shuddered, and fired at a small group hiding behind an old VW.

"Oh ho, is someone afraid of bugs?" Castiel grinned and caught two more men, one on the hand, one in the shin.

"So? Shut up!" One man made a break for the door on the side of the house. She clipped him, he went down hard and crawled back. She smirked. It was lucky for him they weren't going to kill anyone.

"Haha, you can fight zombies and campers, but you can't stand bugs?" Cas saw four men getting ready to rush an open window. A few well placed shots discouraged them.

"Don't make me fill your bed with them." Becky fired at three of the closest men, driving them further back.

"Oh, I'm so scared." Cas aimed and made three women drop their guns. He laughed.

"I mean it angel!" Becky scowled. Someone stood up. She made him go back down.

"You do realize we'll probably never sleep in a bed ever again, right?" Two more shots, _there_ and _there_.

"A mere technicality." She fired, a scream followed.

"Yeah, yeah sure. You keep dreaming."

* * *

"Rufus! I need some help over here!" Dean squeezed off three shots, but five quickly swelled up, moving closer.

"What's wrong?" Rufus grunted, the gun was starting to get hot in his hands.

"I can't stop them! They just keep coming!" Dean didn't take his eyes away from the mob for a second, he kept firing, but nothing was working.

"Same here, boy." Rufus tried to corner off the men coming at doors. They were less secure than the windows. He knew that if anyone got in… well, there was no winning after that.

"Maybe we should go downstairs; you know, help them out." Dean faltered, one man was going to make it through; a bullet cut him down. Dean grinned, good ol' Chuck.

"Alright, boy. Let's do it fast." Rufus picked up what little ammunition was left, and glancing over, noticed Dean do the same. They ran as fast as they could to the stairs, their feet hardly touching the ground. Dean was hard pressed not to just jump to the bottom, but the last thing they needed was for him to sprain his ankle.

Rufus set up quickly at a large window between Becky and Cas. He tipped his head up with a smile. "Hey, guys."

Cas grinned. "Hey, Rufus." He noticed a small group advancing on him, and fired twice. Four quickly took their place. His eyes widened, and he ducked. A hole appeared above his head, as he was covered in a layer of dust and splinters. Cas quickly repositioned himself, driving them back.

Becky knocked out two more. "So, what's up?"

Rufus peaked around a board, finding a target. He aimed and fired. "Oh, ya know. Missed you guys."

Castiel laughed, firing off three more rounds. "Aww, that's so sweet!"

Dean fell to his knees, sliding the last few feet to Chuck. His back to the wall, he peaked out around a board. He found a group of men taking cover behind the hood of an overturned car. With a grin he decided teach them a lesson about proper cover. He winked at his partner. "Hey, Chuck. What's up?"

Chuck fired twice. "Oh, you know. Nothing much."

"Ah, man. Same here." Dean shot three of them before they knew what happened. The rest ran like Hell, and didn't stop until they were out of his sight.

Chuck sighed happily, firing at three women peaking around a stack of cars. "You know, it is really _quite_ a beautiful day."

Dean fired at some guy with a sniper rifle. It was obvious from the way he held it that he had no idea how to use it. Lucky them. "You know, I was just thinking the same thing…" Dean turned quickly and shouted, "Hey, this isn't working!"

Distantly he heard, "Nah. Really?"

"Bite me, Cas!"

Softly, "Maybe later. I'm a little busy right now."

Dean laughed, and turned back to the window.

* * *

Sorry for the wait. For some reason not having school as a distraction makes me write slower. Weird, huh? Anyway, to make up for it, this is the longest chapter yet! Woo!

Did you know, every time you leave a review Dean kisses Cas. Please, think of Cas.


	9. Chapter 9

I'm so terribly sorry about the wait. Please enjoy.

* * *

Chuck tried to act happy. Really, he did.

Lord knows if you're staring death in the face, hiding in the basement praying they don't find you is a bad idea. He laughed, and joked with the others, but deep down he was cracking.

It wasn't because he thought they'd lose. He knew with a certainty that they would. It wasn't that he was afraid he'd get dragged out of that house, because one way or another that was going to be what happened. It wasn't even that he was going to die. He'd been ready for years.

It was because of Dean.

He'd thought it was awful to be below Dean, knowing the young hunter was relying on him, but he'd been wrong. This was worse. Knowing Dean was beside him relying on him brought a whole new level of stress to the whole situation.

Thank God he was holding his gun so tightly or Dean would have seen how bad his hands were shaking.

Dean laughed, and smacked a hand on his shoulder. "Damn Chuck, good shot!"

Chuck looked at Dean and smiled nervously before redoubling his efforts, because that? That right there? That did not help _at all_. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on shooting straight.

He was ready to die, but he was not ready to let Dean down.

He heard Dean laugh. Cautiously he glanced over. "What?"

"Dude, you look so freaked out right now."

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Sorry, what is the proper expression for a time like this?"

Dean wiped sweat from his forehead, and grabbed another magazine. He looked down and hesitated; he was running dangerously low.

He caught Chuck's eye, and for just a second, really felt the terror of the moment.

Dean swallowed and tried not to let it show. But Chuck saw it; he saw everything. He knew what Dean was feeling at that exact instant. He reached out and grabbed Dean tightly. "No. Don't. Think of Cas. Think of anything but that. Don't let it distract you."

Dean nodded. He was a hunter after all; he knew how to remain calm. He went back to shooting. "How'd you know?"

Chuck laughed. "Because _I'm_ terrified all the time." He shrugged. "You just get used to seeing it."

"So what do you think about?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah."

"I think about clouds."

"Huh." Dean looked at the sky between shots. "Looks like some are starting to pile up."

Chuck looked up and smiled. "Yeah. I think it's going to rain soon."

Dean grinned cheekily. "Good thing we have a roof over our heads then."

Another half hour passed. Dean was getting irritated. "Is it just me, or are their more of them?"

A frown tugged at Chuck's mouth. "You're right. I think they're moving."

Dean sighed. "I'm going to tell the others." He turned and shouted. "Hey!"

After a moment Rufus replied. "What?"

"Are you noticing anything strange with the camp bastards?"

Two minutes passed.

"Yeah. They're thinning."

Dean bit his lip. "I think they're shifting over."

"Why?"

"How the hell should I know?"

Then everything was turned upside down.

* * *

Dean was getting frustrated. Patience had never been one of his strong points.

He could wait until they ran out of bullets, or he could take matters into his own hands.

The decision was simple. This has to be done carefully.

Dean slid back from his position against a truck, and moved behind a myriad of rusting cars that offered him room to move without having to duck fire. He walked back to the gate where his vehicle sat waiting for him. He popped the trunk and dug out everything he would need.

Making the bomb was easy. Ensuring it wouldn't knock down the whole house… less so, but Dean thought he'd managed to pull it off.

Besides, if he accidentally killed everyone inside the house, it wasn't like any of his men would complain.

He placed the bomb in a secure crate and approached the house once more.

Dean tried to move with as much stealth as he could; his plan required a certain amount of surprise. He ducked, rolled and crawled until he had conveyed the plan to everyone.

He went through a list in his head, and selected eight of his most skilled fighters. Dean had to make a few concessions when the man he wanted was injured, but in the end he felt he had assembled a good team.

The mission he had in mind was simple. He wanted to throw more men at one side of the house to focus the fire of the people inside.

If everything went according to plan, the people inside wouldn't know what was going on until it was too late.

Dean decided he was going to come in through the kitchen, where he could see Becky's gun occasionally flash in the sunlight.

It wasn't that he was sexist, but he was sure she'd be easier to trick than the others. Of course Chuck was naturally going to be in the same boat, but he'd seen his younger-self join him, and that made him a tougher target.

Dean passed a signal down the ranks. Everyone moved into position. Satisfied, he turned and nodded at his team.

He took a deep breath and pulled the bomb out of the crate. For some reason he felt apprehensive. But that was ridiculous. This had to be done.

He stood, and threw the bomb at the wall. He ducked quickly, and placed his hands firmly over his ears.

The sound shook him to his core.

And then they were in.

* * *

Becky didn't know what happened.

One minute she'd been keeping her side clear. Vaguely she could hear a conversation between Rufus and Dean. What she could make out was a little confusing and she was about to ask about it. Then all of a sudden she was on her back.

Smoke and debris filled the air, the room, everything. She couldn't see straight; the world was too busy spinning. Her ears were ringing loudly drowning out every other sound. Something wet was making its way down her face.

Becky struggled to sit up. She fell back. With a groan, she rolled onto her stomach.

She looked across the room. Rufus was lying completely still; a shaft of light fell on his back illuminating all the small particles floating in the air. She looked further and caught Castiel's eye; his trench coat and his face were covered in blood. Cas tried nodded at her and he gasped. A grimace covered his face and he curled in on himself, coughing violently. He tried to stand and fell back to the ground with a grunt.

Becky was bursting with questions; she needed to know if he was alright, if Rufus was dead, if he could see Dean, if Chuck was still breathing.

She started to crawl over to him.

She made it two feet when strange men filled the room.

She was shoved down harshly, and then brutal hands dug into her arms and dragged her out into a blindingly bright light, and threw her onto the hard dirt ground.

There was no smoke outside, and once her lungs dragged in a breath, her head cleared and the ringing stopped. Slowly she pushed herself up, thankful that this time her limbs respond.

A hand grabed her arm firmly. She followed it up until she encountered Rufus's serious face. "You alright?"

"Yeah." She ran a hand down her chest to her stomach; everything seems to be intact. "I think so." She turned to Chuck. He nodded reassuringly.

"What about you kid?"

Dean coughed; he was covered in dust and splinters. He flashed a thumbs up, and grabbed Castiel's shoulder before another wave of coughing overcame him.

"Cas?"

The angel placed a soothing hand on Dean's back. He flashed Rufus a smile and croaked, "Yeah. 'm good."

"Really? Cause you're covered in gore, man."

Cas laughed quietly. "I've had worse."

"I'm sure you have."

Using each other to brace themselves, the five managed to regain their footing and brushed themselves off. Slowly they took in their surroundings. A rough circle of bloodstained men had them completely enclosed.

Dean cleared his throat and smiled sarcastically. "Hey there guys. Something we can help you with?"

His future-self stepped forward.

Dean felt Cas tense up beside him. He grabbed Castiel's wrist, and murmured, "No. I've got this."

Dean moved to stand in front of his friends. It was his fault they were in this position, and he was going to get them out of it.

* * *

Reviews make me write faster. Didn't you know?


	10. Chapter 10

Some people requested a scene with both of the Dean's present, so here it goes, I did my best to make sure you could tell them apart while trying not to have redundant names.

I'm sorry this took so long. I just got a new job and its been eating all my time. Anyway, I hope you like it, and please read my little note at the end!

* * *

Silence reigned as the two stared each other down.

"You can end this right now."

"You're right. You could walk away."

The elder Winchester nodded to himself. He remembered being that age. He'd been impossible to sway. The young man was standing between the seasoned hunters; all of them covered in blood and dust, their eyes confident and proud. None of them would back down.

That was alright. He figured he'd have the advantage; he knew everything the man before him knew, _everything_. There wasn't anything the kid could do that he wouldn't see coming.

He smirked and crossed his arms.

He'd seen more action than the younger man had _ever_ seen. He'd seen more people die, _good_ people who didn't deserve it. He'd killed people, Croat's sure, but people nonetheless. He'd tortured demons, even when he knew they didn't have any information; he'd done it just to spread fear in their ranks. This young fool thought he'd back down? Well, he had another thing coming.

Dean watched his elder self. He knew he had the advantage. The people he saw standing behind his future-self were all broken shells of men. They were covered in blood, and their eyes spoke volumes of the fear they were feeling. The four behind him were his strength. He knew they believed in him, and that was all he needed. He wasn't going to become this broken down man who stood before him. This man who had cracked so fundamentally that he could hardly be called a man. He was a monster. He'd become the very thing he had tried to vanquish his _whole life_.

Briefly Dean considered whether or not he could kill himself.

His hand casually moved to his waistband, and griped the pearl handle of his favorite gun; it was good fortune the camp bastards had been so eager to drag them out that none of them had been searched. He hoped to a God that wasn't listening that it would have a few rounds left, and aimed it between his future-self's eyes.

He pulled the trigger. The gun clicked. Dean looked at it in disbelief. "Fu – "

His future-self descended on him, his fists a blur as they pounded harshly into the soft, yielding flesh of the younger man.

Dean managed to break away, and stumbled back a few feet, before hitting the ground roughly. Blood dripped from his lips. His future-self moved to kick him while he was down, but Dean was quick and rolled out of the way.

He surged to his feet, and jabbed at his elder-self's throat. His future-self saw it coming too late, and Dean connected solidly with his jaw.

Dean could almost swear he felt something crack.

He struck again quickly, and landed a solid blow to the side of his future-self's skull. The elder struggled to keep his feet as darkness overcame his vision. Years of practice helped him shake it off and lunge again, catching his younger-self under the ribs while he was off balanced, and tossed him to the ground. The young man regained his feet quickly.

The elder frowned. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. His younger-self was supposed to realize this was useless and back down. He dodged another attack. Then again, he was facing himself. That meant he was facing someone who was just as foolhardy and pigheaded as he was.

This wasn't going to end until one of them was dead.

He saw Dean move to deliver a hard punch to the solar plexus. He grabbed the young man's wrist and pulled him forward, twisting to deliver a solid blow to his shoulder, dislocating his younger-self's arm. He continued to beat into the vulnerable flesh he found there, relishing the choked off scream his actions earned.

He dropped his younger-self like a pack of rocks at his feet, and placed a foot at the junction of his neck, kicking him backwards, so he lay facing the sky, his eyes screwed up, his teeth clenched.

Victory was sweet.

Rufus and Chuck rushed forward and grabbed Dean securely, helping him to his feet.

The elder heard his old friends whisper, "It's okay, kid." And, "This'll only hurt for a second."

Rufus gripped his arm tightly and pushed it up and back until it locked into place. The elder felt strangely proud that his younger-self didn't cry out.

He took in the sight before him. His younger-self being supported on both sides by two of his closest friends, Becky was right behind him, her eyes full of worry, and Castiel. He paused. Castiel was looking at _him_, not Dean, not the little time-traveler, but _him_ as though he was Lucifer himself. The blue eyes held nothing but hatred.

Dean felt himself die a little more. He gave his attention back to his younger-self. "Give it up, boy."

Dean laughed, his hand gripping his arm tightly. "You should know yourself better than that."

His future-self glared. "What do you think you're going to do, huh? You think you can lead these people? For how long? You don't even _belong_ here. You'll lead them to their deaths, and then you'll just move on like it never happened. I know myself well enough to know you won't do that."

Dean laughed. "You're such a fucking dick. You were leading them to their deaths long before I arrived. You know what I think this is about?"

His future-self rolled his eyes. "Please. Enlighten me."

Dean moved so he was supporting his own weight. "You're jealous."

That was ridiculous. "Jealous of what?"

"Me. You're jealous that Cas loves me. That he loves me for all that I am, and all that you can never be. You're too broken you sick son of a bitch. And you know what? It's your fault it happened."

Castiel stared at Dean as though he'd grown another head. He leaned forward and whispered, "Dean, you're wrong. He doesn't love me."

Dean casually looked back at Cas. "Trust me, he does. I always have."

They both turned back to the elder hunter.

The elder felt his lip curl up in a snarl, and something dark unfurled in his chest. No. It wasn't jealousy. It wasn't.

He aimed his gun.

After all, what did he have to lose? Sam was always going to say Yes. He was always going to say No. The world was always going to go to hell in a hand basket. There was nothing he could do that would change any of it. Hadn't Michael put it best? Free will was an illusion. There was no changing what the future had become, he'd already lost, and always would. So who cared if he killed his younger-self right here? They would both die, and the world wouldn't even notice. Maybe he'd even save himself some pain in the long run.

He saw his younger-self's eyes widen. His fingers slowly squeezed the trigger.

And then he stopped.

Castiel was standing in front of his younger-self, his arms spread wide, his trench coat completely obscuring his view.

"Move."

"No."

"Listen you fucking stoned hippie, _move_. For once do yourself a favor and just stand aside."

"No Dean. My place is here."

"What? Protecting _him_?"

"Protecting you."

"Sorry, Cas. You're too late."

He fired.

"NO!"

Dean caught Castiel as he fell, a dark stain rapidly covering his chest. His blue eyes looked glassy as he blinked up at the sky; he seemed confused. Dean held him close. "No, Cas, come on. Don't do this."

Realization dawned on the fallen angel, and his eyes focused on the young hunter. "I'm sorry, Dean. It looks like I'm breaking my promise."

Dean shook his head silently. He could feel the tears pricking at his eyes. "Please, Cas. Don't."

Shakily Castiel raised a hand, and his fingers traced Dean's face. "I love you, Dean."

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, and gripped Castiel tightly, burying his face in the angel's hair.

He felt when Cas went limp in his arms. He could hear Becky crying behind him.

Blindly his hand reached into Castiel's jacket, searching for a gun. He found one. He moved to face his future-self, a scathing retort on his lips, but instead he saw a large bald man looking at him sadly and reaching for his forehead.

They were in a motel room. Dean looked around frantically for Castiel, his hand unconsciously twisting itself in his bloody shirt that was now miraculously clean, but the angel was gone.

Zachariah looked at him, pity etched across his face.

Dean leapt forward, and grabbed him roughly by his lapels. "Where is he?"

Zachariah's head moved to the side in an odd parody of the hunter's angel. Dean was not amused. He drew back his fist and punched Zachariah as hard as he could, and seconds later cradled it to his chest as Zachariah smiled at him patently.

"What the fuck was that?"

"That? That was the future, Dean."

"So that's what's going to happen? That's it?"

"Unless you say yes to Michael." He moved forward slowly, invading the hunter's personal space. "Unless you submit to heaven. Don't you see, Dean? You're going to be the death of him. You're going to _kill_ Castiel. Can you really do that?"

Dean stumbled backwards. He was still shaken by what had just happened, his heart was still in his throat. This was too much. Zachariah advanced on him like a panther, his eyes glinted in the light.

"Well Dean, I won't let it happen. I'm not letting you out of my sight. You are going to say yes. You are going to say it over, and over, and after a time, I will decide if you have truly repented, and are ready to accept heavens mercy. This is it boy. You're mine now"

Dean was backed against a wall, he had no where to go. Quickly his eyes searched the room for weapons, but what could he use against an angel? Zachariah smirked, knowing he'd won.

Then Dean disappeared; he could hear Zachariah's cry of rage as the world spun past his eyes.

He was standing on a dark windswept road. He turned around, and saw Castiel smiling gently at him. His eyes were clear, his hair softly mused, and he had a glow of innocence about him. Dean rushed forward, and pulled the angel close, vowing never to let him go.

"Dean?"

He buried a hand in Cas's hair, and tugged the angel closer, trying to meld their bodies together. His other hand moved inside Castiel's jacket, to his buttoned shirt, and quickly felt for a bullet wound, or any wound for that matter. He didn't find one. He pressed a frantic kiss to the angel's ear, before he tucked Castiel's head beneath his chin, content just to stand there, knowing the other was alive.

He heard a muffled voice. "Dean?"

Abruptly Dean's face fell and his body tensed. This was his angel, and it was his heart, but it wasn't Cas, not yet. But Dean could not let him go. He just couldn't. He ran a hand down Castiel's back, in a soothing gesture. "Yeah, Cas?"

"What are you doing?"

Dean sniffed as he pulled back, his hands taking Castiel's between his own. Hesitantly he met the angel's eyes. "Cas? Please. Don't ever change."

* * *

When I first started this story I thought it was only going to be one, maybe two chapters. Dean and his future self would go looking for Cas & Co. and find them ripped to shreads in the city. Well, as you can see, that is not what happened. The story kind of took on a life of its own. Now, this ending was what I visualized when the story began, specifically Zach's role. As such, I dont really have any plans for this to grow from here. Now, I might be incorrect, and maybe on day in the future I'll kick out another chapter, heck, maybe a sequel will be made. I just thought I should flat out warn you that there also may not be one. So, now this is out of the way, I'm going to go start kickin some ass on some of the stories I've been neglecting.

**If you liked this story, you should review. Otherwise I'll feel all sad. **


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